#knifes are just smaller swords

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

So, how would Vanny react seeing Perky alive and well, Right after stabbing them the other night.

Perkeo's been veeeeeeery careful about not getting badly hurt in front of people while working in the pizzaplex, that includes the weird furry that is not sneaky at all and bluntly carries a knife around (note: that does not equals to them not being one reckless stupid mf)

That said, when they found out about the correlation between Vanny and Vanessa, boy were they mad and wanted to mess with her

They let her land a hit — not a vital one, that would be annoying, just a scratch to their cheek or somewhere visible (then dipping right after because no, they are not dealing with this rn without a least a whole bag of sundrops on their system. Running was usually their go-to with her)

The next day Vanessa looked like she was about to lose her goddamn mind when she saw the skin perfectly healed and couldn't even find any video proof that anything happened (There was a signal blocker or whatever the name being used)

One time Vanessa did manage to hurt them more badly and they gaslit the shit out of her the day after

Either way my girlie was NOT having a good time while dealing with that blue haired twink, if glitchtrap didn't drive her insane dealing with Perkeo would for sure

Especially because that little menace was ruining all her plans somehow when it came to Moon and she had NO CLUE how because she ordered that bot to kill them like 50 different times and yet the next day they would offer her a coffee and the one time she went to look they were just throwing a virus-controlled Moon over their shoulder into a pile of pillows like he weighted nothing and that was one of the most disturbing views she had all day

[aquatic-anxiety]

Dw we’ll handle cutting the fruits into gem and flower shapes, you’re too young to handle a knife by yourself

I have a sword though

[lemon-boy-stan]

Genshin men NSFW headcanons

Smut. Headcanons. FEATURING: diluc, kaeya, childe, dottore, xiao, wriothesley, neuvillette x reader. WARNINGS: breeding (diluc, zhongli, wriothesley), size kink (diluc, childe) CNC (kaeya), exhibitionsim (kaeya), knife/sword play (kaeya), monsterfucking (childe, zhongli), sex films (kaeya), corruption (dottore), dumbification (childe, dottore), dollification (dottore), objectification (dottore), torture (dottore), cum play (xiao), size kink (diluc, wriothesley), face riding (xiao), thigh riding (xiao, wriothesley), cock riding (xiao, wriothesley), handcuffs (wriothesley), toys (neuvillette), oral (neuvillette)

MINORS DON'T INTERACT ISTG.

DILUC

Ever since you've been in a relationship with Diluc, he's always been a service top.

Diluc also fucks to make love. Sex is meaningful to him, unless, of course, when he's angry or jealous.

He's a dom, and enjoys being in control, but also enjoys worshipping you.

Diluc only wants to make you feel good

Although he is a Pyro character, so sometimes he might get out of control

When he's really angry or really turned on, his eyes flash dark red.

Diluc is often vocal in sex. He groans alot, sometimes moans, and is always praising how well you're doing for him.

He's always had a breeding kink, but since your marriage, he can't get the idea of kids out of his head.

Diluc also adores the fact that you're so much smaller than him.

Every time he stretches you open you still squeal because he's too big.

He's drunk with how you make him feel, and he knows no one else would ever make him feel this good.

KAEYA

Switch but mostly Dom.

A mean one at that.

He enjoys things like CNC, knife play.

Seeing you squirm beneath him just gets him harder.

He does enjoy to sub sometimes, but you're never completely in control.

Kaeya is also an exhibitionist.

If he gets jealous, he'll fuck you infront of whoever made him jealous; maybe his brother or another knight.

In a modern au, he'd defineltey enjoy making sex films. He'd just love having videos of you all fucked out on his phone, cockdrunk.

CHILDE

Childe is a top, even more cruel than Kaeya.

Unlike Diluc, Tartaglia fucks to fuck.

He has alot of pent-up stress from his job, and he needs to let it out somehow.

What better way than his pretty little traveller?

Tartaglia loves seeing the fear in your eyes when he backs you up against a wall.

He loves how you suck his cock in so well, taking it every time even if it hurts.

Childe is often scared that one day he may hurt you in his foul legacy form.

He disagrees with the idea at first, and it takes a lot of convincing.

But one day, when he's turned, he can't resist you

He is ten feet tall, and his cock is fifteen inches.

He's a bit like a dragon in where the idea what's his is his.

In his foul legacy form, Childe's voice has you under a spell where you do anything he says.

DOTTORE

Dottore is a sadist.

You're just so innocent, and you just love him so much, he can't help but use you.

He loves your pretty blonde hair, and how lost and dumb you are for him.

You're such a good little doll, better than any of his creations.

He'd only ever fucked his creations before, but when you joined the fatui, he knew he felt something strong for you, something warm and different.

While he enjoys torturing you, in his own way, he's showing how much he loves you.

There's only the best for you, the best treatment, the best gifts.

Dottore loves how you're still not used to his fingers, his kisses, his touches.

He loves corrupting you, making you even more obsessed with him, almost brainwashed from his cock.

Maybe one day he'll put a concoction on you, give it to you to drink.

XIAO

Xiao is a major switch who loves to worship you.

He loves being inside you. He gets antsy alot when he isn't.

He's got a high sex drive, so you can count on alot of sex.

He also has the prettiest, sexiest moans.

Xiao loves making a mess of his cum, covering your body in it.

Xiao loves when you ride his face, his cock, his thighs. He can't get enough of it.

He loves you cumming on him, not being able to stop yourself.

Sometimes he'll have his hand wrapped around your throat if you talk back too much.

He also likes somnophilia. Once, Xiao saw you sleeping, and he just couldn't help yourself. And when he heard you moaning in your sleep, it became his new obsession.

WRIOTHESLEY

Wriothesley is a big believer in handcuffs and punishment.

He has many rules, and many repurcussions.

He likes having you helpless, being obsessed with him.

He's a former boxer, so he's very strong

He often manhandles you unintentionally, and his grip is so tight it often leaves marks.

If you're bad, he will cuff your hands behind your back. No exceptions.

He loves how tiny you are, how big his cock is compared to you.

He loves fucking you in the ass, it's his favourite thing to fill you up from behind.

He loves seeing you bounce on his abnormally large cock and his thighs.

Most importantly, he's obsessed when you shove your head into his neck, mewling at how good he feels.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette is a switch who mostly enjoys subbing, and when he doms he likes being on bottom too.

Neuvillette loves when your mouth is around his cock. He'd never had any kind of sex before, and as soon as he felt you around him, he was obsessed.

He loves when his nipples are in your mouth. They're so sensitive, that he's squirming and gripping the bedsheets.

He loves being overstimulated, even if he's on top. When he cums so much that he can't anymore, his voice always breaks and he always starts crying because of how good it feels.

He loves when you use toys on him, he's a pillow princess. Vibrators, plugs, strap-ons, you name it.

He loves to shake of orgasms, and making messes all over you.

ZHONGLI

Zhongli has never had sex with a human before

But with you, he just couldn't resist.

He had to mate with you, make you his.

Don't you know dragons don't share their belongings?

Your scent was just... Different to him than anyone else. Special, perfect.

When he gets jealous, he half-turns into his form, his arms turning black and golden, horns growing on his head, tail forming behind him.

He uses his tail to keep you in place.

Sometimes, he makes you drink the ichor he bleeds, coaxing you into it, purring how much he wouldn't be able to live a lifetime without you.

He's obsessed with breeding you, as dragons mate for life.

Zhongli sees sex as something necessary, and is able to track your cycle by scent. He knows if you're on your period, when to fuck you, when to make love with you, and he knows if you're carrying his children.

GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

NAVIGATION

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp prompt #13: Hell to Pay

They say there are only two things certain in life: death and taxes. That’s why even the Joker doesn’t fuck with the IRS.

However, unfortunately for the Joker the other certainty is death and he has yet to pay his dues. Just like how he could only get away with tax evasion for so long, there are only so many times the Joker can dodge death.

Death is coming to collect, with interest.

And the Joker will have hell to pay.

~ A dark green cloud swirls over the city. From it, emerge three oppressive figures:

The one on the far left with flowing hair like white-hot fire. His vambraces made of (what appeared to be) molten glass stopped under his fingers, which then extend into into claws that seemed to drip lava. He had spiked obsidian pauldrons on his shoulders, fastening a luminous, stark-white cape to his shoulders. He wore a coronet of lightning and wielded a flail that appeared to be made of coal chains and a shrunken Red Giant star.

The second on the far right had a helm of dark iron wreathed in a plume of purple flame. His gauntlets and sword flamed with green hellfire. A pure black sheath seemingly made of void and a silver hunting horn were tied to his waist. He wore an armor forged of shadows and proofed with fear. He rode atop a mighty stead. An inky dark stallion with a curved horn and bat-like wings. His form was constantly slightly shifting depending on the angle which you viewed him making him appear larger and more slippery than he was, enhancing his disquieting nature.

The third stood in the middle, smaller but no less terrifying than her companions. Her hair was wild with movement, only just visible because it appeared as if someone had bound the winds to her head. She wore a tiara made of storm clouds and pearls. She carried with her a spear, the shaft crafted of amazonite and the tip of a clear quartz, almost reminiscent of sea salt. At her hip lay a whip made of a restrained gale and a sea glass knife. She wore armor that appeared to be Greco-Roman in origin: a chest plate made of some sort of coral-like material and a battle skirt decorated with metallic bronze feathers.

They slowly descent on the city, bringing down a sense of power and dread. They paused at the top of Wayne Tower, where the city's vigilantes had all gathered in an attempt to create and feasible plan of action to discern what these beings want. The young woman in the middle speaks and the wind carries her voice. She is not loud but it the whole of Gotham hears her words.

"Greetings, Heroes of Gotham. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Spirit, Princess and Head Diplomat of the Infinite Realms. This is Samhain, the Fright Knight, loyal knight to the king,” she gestured to her right before switching to her left “and this is Prince Wraith, current General in Chief of the Realms. We come to you as the King’s Guard and entourage. We have official business in your city and wish to civilly notify you of our presence. The King will be arriving shortly and your cooperation would be great fully received.”

Batman moved forward to shake her hand and address the situation.

“I’m afraid that we prefer not to have unknowns operating within the city. Would you be able to tell us what business you have here? Perhaps we could reach an agreement?” Batman tried to negotiate as politely as he could. He did not want to risk offending the evidently powerful beings.

Princess Spirit’s smile sharpened as she thrummed her finger against her knife. She spoke again with an unnervingly pleasant tone.

“It appears you do not understand. We are not asking for your permission.” Her grip around his hand tightened. “ We are informing you.” She finished releasing his hand.

Batman withdrew his aching hand and regarded her with the beginnings of a protest on his lips. She didn’t allow him to speak.

“ This is out of your jurisdiction Batman. This is a matter of the Realms and the Afterlife. Whatever worldly rules or morals you wish to impose on those who enter this city do not apply to us. We will do our best to work within them, so as to appease you and to attempt to maintain a friendly relationship but in the macrocosm of the multiverse and afterlives you have no official power over us. Additionally, we have direct permission to operate here however we see fit from the City Spirit herself, Lady Gotham.”

Batman’s shadow seemed to fluctuated. His and his team's shadows moved from beneath them, closer to the Princess. Lady Gotham, though not manifesting, was making her presence and approval known. Batman could not deny what he was seeing. His team shifted uncomfortably behind him. He appealed to her once more.

“ I see that we can’t stop you. We don’t want to get in your way either. Could you at least tell us why you are here?”

She smiled as if telling a joke, “All will be revealed in time”

Suddenly, there was a loud noise that sounded like tearing fabric. The green clouds mixed with purples and blues and began to churn faster. The cyclone emitted a flashes of bright light. In unison all three of the King’s Guard lifted up from the roof and took place underneath the eye of the wind storm.

Spirit holds her spear aloft. With one swift, commanding move she slams the butt of her spear down, creating a platform out of solidified air.

Wraith bellows out smoke and ash onto the platform to discolor it. With ferocious and precise movements his claws to carve in a sigil, leaving a soft orange glow against the black and gray.

Samhain sheathes his sword and pulls his horn from his waist. He wills his dark stead to rear up as he blows the horn, letting out one loud prolonged cry.

The three warriors stand at attention and Princess Spirit calls the winds to project her voice once more.

“ Now introducing the Ruler of the Infinite Realms, High King of the In-Between, The Great One, The Benevolent King, The Peace Maker, The Guardian of Souls, The One with the Cloak of Stars and the Crown of Frozen Light, The Perfect Balance, Ancient of Space and Reality, The Infinite King: Phantom!”

With a flash of white light a figure appear in the center of the platform. Simultaneously, the three knights bow in reverence.

The King has arrived.

As the Heroes of Gotham regain clear vision they are met with a striking figure.

There stood a toned young man appearing both boyishly young, yet wisened and weathered. He had side swept hair the creeped to the bottom of his neck. His skin was pale with an icy blue tint. He opened his eyes to reveal they shone an electric green. Upon his head rest a crown made of a crystalline material, reminiscent of an aurora. He wore a navy blue cloak that had a rich purple hood lined with stark white fur. The underside displayed a shifting galaxy pattern. His under suit was the same midnight black as Samhain’s. He donned golden arm bands and a gold chest plate in style quite similar to Spirit’s. His hand were covered in snow white gauntlets that matched Wraith’s vambraces.

They all stood in awe, beholden to the almost divine figure.

The king sent them a gentle smile. It was warm and comforting yet sent a chill down their shoulders.

King Phantom began to fly down toward the center of the city, his entourage fell into step behind him. He hovered several hundred feet over Wayne tower and looked down at the city. He then spoke in a booming voice, his tone kind but commanding.

“ I humbly greet the Lady Gotham, her champions, and her citizens,” the shadows curled toward him appreciatively. “ I am grateful for your cooperation in our effort to rectify a great injustice. As High King of the Infinite Realms it is one of my duties to preside over the afterlife. To bring guidance, peace, and justice to the souls under my jurisdiction. Recently, it has been brought to my attention that there is a soul among you who has not only dodged death, but caused great strife to a vast number of souls who call for justice.”

On the roof of Wayne Enterprises Jason and Damian both stiffen, but remain firm in their gaze toward the king. The king looks out at the city and sparing them the quickest of glances. He continues onward.

“ The man formerly know as Jack Napier, now called The Joker. He has avoided death on many an occasion but his life should have ended moment he fell into a vat of chemicals. Since then he has sent hundreds more to the afterlife. He has long yet to pay his dues. That is why on the behalf of justice, restoring balance, and of my subjects I officially condemn Jack Napier.”

“Jack Napier, you have been allowed 24 hours turn yourself into our custody in order to be put on trial for your crimes in the Infinite Realms. Should you fail to turn youself in, we shall take that as an admission of guilt and acceptance to be punished for your actions. After the 24 hours are up, Samhain shall use his horn to summon The Hunt and we shall track you down.”

His gaze passed specifically over Red Hood, one of the Oracle’s drones, Nightwing, Signal, Red Robin, and Batman before he spoke his next words.

“All those souls who have been wronged by the Joker, both living and deceased, who wish to have a hand in their justice have been invited to join The Hunt if they so choose.”

The king lifted his hand, calling the swirling green clouds to his gather in his palm. The clouds swiftly rearranged themselves into a smokey timer hanging in the sky.

An impish smirk graced King Phantom’s face as he let out a malicious laugh and gave his final decree.

“ Your time begins now!”

[suuuupernovaaa]

Aemond’s betrothed is threatened, and he will stop at nothing to save her.

Content Warnings: violence, blood, mature, 18+

Soft footfalls were enough to wake you from your light slumber. Through you were not yet married, it was rare that Aemond did not find sleep in your bedchambers at night.

So, you assumed it was Aemond, come to join you at last, when you heard the footsteps approaching.

Your groggy mind took too long to process that it was two sets of footprints, not one.

Sitting up, you pulled the blanket to cover your night gown, and watched as two strange men entered your room.

“Guards!” you screamed immediately, and the taller man laughed, revealing rotting teeth. You winced at the sight and sound.

“They won’t be coming, Princess. Not til we’re done with you, at least,” he snarled, and they approached your bed.

Frantically, you tried to scramble to the head of the bed, meaning to get your footing and make a run for it, but they were on you, daggers drawn, before you could get anywhere.

The smaller one, who could not be much older than you at nine and ten, grabbed your ankle, and roughly pulled you from the bed.

You hit the stone floor with a thud and a grunt, sharp pain emanating from your elbow and hip, before he grabbed your arm, hoisting you up so you were face to face with him.

“Who sent you?” you asked.

They must have been inexperienced in this sort of nefarious activity as he replied eagerly, “The Black Queen.”

You shook your head, in disbelief that your cousin would want this fate for you, no matter how bitter the blood was between you now.

His knife was at your belly, pressing gently. “Come with quietly,” he hissed, and you shook your head.

The blade pierced skin then, and he covered your mouth to keep you quiet. Fear was like lead in your belly, keeping you frozen to the spot.

Over his shoulder, you glanced at the older assailant, just as a sword passed through his neck, severing his head from his body with precision and ease.

Seeing the look in your eyes, the man holding you turned, and dropped you at the sight of his partner’s headless corpse.

“Please-“ he began, raising his hands and dropping his blade, but Aemond was not one to listen.

The Dowager Queen burst into the room then, followed by the head of the king’s guard, and you ran to them. Alicent opened her arms, pulling you to her chest, and you sank to the floor together as Ser Cole joined Aemond.

Your body was shaking violently, and you clung to Aemond’s mother as she whispered to you in hushed tones.

“Don’t dispatch him yet, Aemond. We need information from him,” Ser Cole was saying.

“They said, they said that, they told me,” you stuttered, and Alicent pushed your hair from your face.

“Breathe, child,” she said.

“They said Rhaenyra sent them. I don’t believe them,” you said, and the former Queen frowned at you, and looked to Aemond.

She nodded once, and you heard the whistle of a sword through the air. You did not turn to see as Alicent pulled you up, and lead you out the room.

xx

Though the Queen insisted on bringing you to her rooms, Aemond convinced her that you would feel safer with him, and she relented - after all, the wedding was in three days. It was only slightly improper, given the circumstances.

Aemond all but carried you to his rooms, and instructed a bath be drawn. As you waited for the hot water, he held you, pressing your head into his chest, whispering that it was safe now.

“I may need a maester,” you said, pulling away. You removed your night clothes to reveal a cut, long but not severely deep, just below your naval. Your elbow was also bruising quickly, with a matching blooming mark on your hip.

Aemond’s eyes lit with renewed rage. “Would that I could kill them twice, and savor it the second time,” he hissed, and called for a maester.

No stitches were required, and so you were cleaned and bandaged, and it was to be a sponge bath instead of a submersion.

You were too worn out to be embarrassed as you stood next to the hot bath that you so desperately wanted to sink into while, with painstaking care, Aemond cleaned every inch of you, from head to toe.

He was silent all the while, a reverent concentration on his face. Were you not still trembling with fear, it may have been one of the most erotic experiences of your life.

When he was finished, he dressed you in one of his under shirts, and led you to bed.

“Come, wife,” he said, pulling you into the warm cradle of his arms. “No harm will come to you now.”

Tears finally pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you could not hold them back. The flowed over your cheeks and onto Aemond’s bare chest, and try as he might to wipe them away, they were coming to fast.

“We will double your guard. I will do anything to make you feel safe. I will not leave your side again. Where I go, you go too,” he said, and the thought of that did ease the panic in your chest.

“Thank you for saving me,” you managed to say, and he tilted your face up to his. He placed a gentle kiss on your wet nose, and then your forehead, and both cheeks.

“In this life and the next, I will always keep you safe. I’m only sorry I did not arrive sooner.”

You held his waist tight, feeling a little safer in his arms, knowing the guards outside were doubled and your protector was here in bed with you.

“Sleep now, beloved. I will never leave you again.”

You closed your eyes, and finally allowed sleep to creep up on you, tucked safely into Aemond’s embrace.

[rainintheevening]

Every rewatch of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe I pick up on new things.

The second sword the Witch fights Peter with is Edmund's.

In the train station scene there's a man's voice in the background saying, 'Hold onto your brother's hand, and don't let him go. I love you!'

I love how they made the Witch's throne of ice, because ice can melt, but the throne Edmund is given by Aslan is made of stone. Feels like a 'house on sand vs house on rock' allusion.

I get goosebumps EVERY TIME Lucy enters the room with the wardrobe and the swing song cuts out into a ringing hush, and then when the cloth comes billowing down, the music swells, and it's one of my favourite little moments.

I also love how the camera angles show Lucy's face, and her wonder, before you, the viewer, see the wardrobe.

Susan is so so sweet to Lucy when they find Mr. Tumnus in the Witch's house, the way she holds her little sister close, and kisses her hair.

I think it's brilliant how terribly tall the Witch feels at first, particularly in her house, when she's standing over Edmund. She feels enormous.

And of course the costume changes, how her crown melts down, and her dress gets smaller and greyer, till it's almost black at the Stone Table, and then in the battle she's wearing a complete chainmail dress (very cool btw), like all her ice has melted down to stone, like she was really just a knife blade under all those frozen layers the whole time.

How the music dies out right before the first clash of the armies, so all you can hear is Peter’s heartbeat, and then again after Edmund gets stabbed by the Witch, but that time it's only Ed’s breathing you can hear.

This turned into me just raving about this movie in general, but it totally deserves it.

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: A prince and a pirate meet in a bar...

For Spiderbit Week Day One: Pirates

-

Las Casualonas used to be a smaller building, Roier thinks. More smoke, less space. More room for dancing, less room for goddamn swordfighting.

Roier watches passively as yet another pirate-wannabe gets thrown out of the building. He sips at his (terrible) beer, fingers idly drumming the table in a neat rhythm.

The loser's sword- a pitiful little thing with more holes than a slice of cheese- gets thrown out after them by the winner: a tall woman with white-blonde hair and a big floppy hat.

"Better luck next time!" she taunts. She laughs, loud and harsh and very pirate-y, and turns right on the heel of her boot to head back to the bar to order a round of celebratory drinks for her crew.

The sword on her belt shines dully in the dim tavern light, blood spattered across its blade.

Roier... considers. She's tough. She has a crew of tough-looking people- Roier watched them cheer her on during the fight, and he can see them surrounding her at the bar now with claps on the back and laughter. She has a nice sword. She has a big hat. She has to be a pirate, right?

But. But she just isn't right. She isn't the one he's looking for.

And so Roier turns his attention from the woman and back to the tavern as a whole. Back to the drawing board...

Pirates.

Oh, pirates.

There's a new law against piracy in the kingdom now. There's also a new pirate in the kingdom- or, rather, from the kingdom.

Coincidence? No. The new law was created within days of the Bear Captain's attempted assassination of the royal family's oldest child, and the Bear Captain hasn't been seen since the law was put into place.

This is a problem, because Roier wants the Bear Captain dead. He wants him more than dead, actually, but there are laws against torture these days, too. (UGH!)

And so Roier sips his (terrible) beer in Las Casualonas' most secluded table. He wants a pirate, but he wants a certain kind of pirate. One that will seek him out, not one who jumps onto tables and stabs a guy (though that is pretty cool, can't lie.)

The hood of Roier's cloak is pulled over his head. He's wearing gloves. He's in all-black, and he has a sword on his belt and two knives up his sleeves and another knife hidden in his boot.

His eyeliner is black, and that's all that matters, isn't it.

The woman and her crew leave the bar and head to a table across the tavern: out of sight, and now out of mind.

Roier sighs and looks down at his reflection in his beer. His eyeliner is smudged, ugh. He'll have to touch it up soon; he might be emo now, but he has standards.

His reflection blinks up at him: black eye and healing lip and broken nose. He looks pirate-y, right? Suitably criminal?

He tries a smile. Fails. Sighs again.

Flinches slightly as the chair across from him is roughly pulled out.

"Shit, my bad," he hears. Deep voice, kind of raspy as if he'd just been yelling.

Roier looks up from his drink and locks eyes with a stranger.

Roier... considers. Broad shoulders, some visible muscles, but not many. Solid figure and large, scarred hands. Short hair, scar across nose, golden earrings, bags under eyes, healing broken nose.

Rapier on his hip, and a pair of flintlock pistols hidden beneath his heavy-looking green coat.

Pirate, Roier thinks.

The pirate sits and immediately leans back into his chair with a groan and a slump, his face burying itself in his hands. He has rings on every one of his fingers, and they're shiny. Gold and silver and gold.

"Sorry if I'm intruding," the pirate sighs. "It's just... so much over there."

He doesn't point, but Roier's eyes go over the pirate's shoulder and towards the group of pirates the woman has at her table. (Is he one of them...?)

Roier shrugs. "It's fine."

(Because it is.)

"I was hoping for some company, anyway," he adds.

(Because he was.)

"Really?" the pirate asks, cracking his fingers apart and looking through the gap. He doesn't sound convinced. "You look..."

"Handsome?" Roier supplies.

"Yeah, but I was going to say, 'emo'."

Roier laughs. He can't help it. (He hasn't laughed since it happened, and it tears his throat up a little, but he almost can't feel the sting.)

Leaning forward slightly, Roier braces himself with his elbows against the table. He tries a smile, and he even sort of succeeds.

"Maybe I am," he hums. "But even emo guys have shiny things. Here."

He manages to smile a bit wider as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a shiny gold piece. He places it on the table and slides it across, his fingers lingering as the pirate snatches the gold piece up.

Both hands turning the gold piece over, and suddenly so much more attentive, the pirate frowns: contemplative.

"Okay," he cautiously says. He looks up and furrows his eyebrows at Roier. "What do you want."

Roier's fingers tap against the table.

"Eh, not much," he shrugs. "Just tell me what you know about the Bear Captain."

The pirate snorts and looks back down at the gold piece; his eyes are practically shining like stars, and it's really actually kind of adorable, actually.

"Who, Spreen?" he casually asks, not noticing the way Roier's entire body freezes up at the name. "He's new in the area. Not much of a captain. He doesn't even have any treasure."

Roier gasps dramatically. "Oh my God, he doesn't have any treasure!"

"Fuck you, treasure is important," the pirate huffs. "Who becomes a pirate for fun? It's all about the treasure."

He pauses, then: "Or... it's all about the killing."

Absently, Roier reaches up and scratches at his chest. The rough fabric of his shirt does not feel good under his nails, but he hardly notices.

The pirate looks back at Roier, eyes narrowed just slightly.

"Which are you?" he asks.

Roier hums, feigning confusion.

"Which kind of pirate are you?" the pirate asks. "Treasure, or killing?"

There's a pistol and a bag of ammunition in Roier's satchel at his feet, but he answers, scoffing, "Treasure, obviously? Do I look like a killer?"

He gestures towards himself with a painted grin. His scar just barely pokes out above the collar of his shirt, and so do the bandages plastered over his shoulder wound.

The pirate... considers.

Then, he smiles and looks back down at his new gold piece.

"You're right," he says. "And you're smart. Like I said, it's all about the treasure. Who needs to kill to get money when you can just steal it?"

He flips the gold piece into the air, and he grabs it mid-fall. He opens his palm, and... nothing.

He meets Roier's surprised gaze with a cheeky grin.

"But if you want someone dead, you're talking to the right guy," he says. "I'd have to talk it over with my co-captain, but-"

"Your co-captain?" Roier asks.

At the same time, the woman from earlier stands and cups a hand around her mouth and shouts, "Cellbit! Stop flirting and get over here! Tubbo's going to do a backflip!"

The pirate- Cellbit?- just rolls his eyes and flips her off without looking.

"Her," he says, voice just short of a sneer. "I'm down to kill whoever you want dead, but she'll be a bit harder to convince."

"Ah," says Roier.

He's still smiling, but it doesn't seem to be reaching Cellbit's eyes anymore.

Reaching forward, leaning across the table, Cellbit brushes a hand behind Roier's ear; Roier bites back a gasp, a shiver running down his spine.

As Cellbit sits back down, he holds up the missing gold piece. He flicks his wrist, and another gold piece slides out from behind the first one.

"She doesn't do it for the gold," he explains. He drops the coins onto the table, watching them roll into each other. "She has morals."

Roier frowns. "Is she even a pirate?"

"No, but I am, and so is half our crew. She prefers the term 'boat mafia'. But, anyway, let me finish here."

Cellbit reaches into Roier's cup and pulls out a third gold piece, placing it neatly onto the table near the other two.

"If someone was to come onto the ship and, say, kill the Bear Captain without Bagi's approval..."

He slides his gaze up to meet Roier's, smirking slightly.

(His eyes are so blue, Roier thinks. Just like the ocean...)

Roier finds himself smiling, genuine.

He nods. "I get it."

"Good. Now, let's go join the others so we can-"

Cellbit is cut off mid-sentence as Las Casualonas' doors crash open and a legion of armed guards come storming into the tavern.

Roier folds into himself, pulling his hood further down his face. (He was supposed to have more time, what the fuck?)

"Everybody, stop what you are doing!" Etoiles, the head of security for the royal family, commands.

The woman, Cellbit's co-captain, slowly turns to face him.

"Um," she says, "no? Who the fuck are you?"

"Who the fuck are you!" Etoiles counters. "Are you a pirate?"

"Technically, no."

"Oh, well that's alright, then. But everyone else!" He pulls his sword out and points it at the rest of the tavern. "Put your hands up where I can see them! Princess Leonarda has informed me that her cringe brother is being held captive in here- which is totally embarrassing, by the way, total rookie move from him, and I am not leaving without him!"

Cellbit looks at Roier.

Roier looks at Etoiles.

Etoiles looks at the barkeep.

Roier looks back at Cellbit.

"Kidnap me," he whispers. "I'll have you and your entire crew pardoned when Spreen is dead."

Without hesitation, Cellbit stands and kicks his chair backwards and turns and pulls both pistols out of their holsters and points them both right at Etoiles' heart.

"Cellbit!" the woman hisses. "We are not doing this again!"

Cellbit ignores her and says, voice low, "The prince is not going anywhere. He's coming with me."

"Okay, those two sentences contradict each other, but that's fine!" Etoiles says. "I may not be good at grammar, but I am much better at killing pirates. Are you ready?"

Slowly, Roier wraps his hand around his bag's strap under the table. He's beaten Etoiles once before, sure, he can do it again. Probably. Maybe. (Not in his condition, not now when he's still supposed to be under bedrest, but...!)

"Get ready to run, your highness," is all that Cellbit says in response.

He glances back at Roier, winks.

And then he pulls the trigger, the tavern explodes.

[lost-in-fandoms]

cw: mentions of blood and animal death (of the hunting variety)

Daniel raises his knife, muscles tense as he listens to the rustling between the trees growing louder.

He's not far from home, he was just checking on his traps, but he's not going back until he knows what's moving in the woods.

He takes half a step back towards a tree, to cover his back, eyes flicking towards the sky as some spooked birds take flight. He can hear someone screaming further away.

Then suddenly the sound of frantic running becomes clearer, sticks breaking and undergrowth snapping, and a second later someone is tumbling into the small clearing, tripping over the bag Daniel had left a few steps away and tumbling to the ground.

Daniel doesn't know what he was expecting, but for sure not this.

It's a boy.

It's hard to figure out his age, both because of how dirty he is and because of how he's still scrambling to get back up, struggling to find his legs, but he must be younger than Daniel for sure.

Daniel lowers his knife and takes a step forward, wanting to give him a hand, but the boy lets out a small growl, stopping his apparently fruitless attempts of standing back up and crouching instead, one leg awkwardly bent, clearly hurt.

"Hey, calm down, I'm not going to hurt you," Daniel says, using the same tone of voice he uses for his horse and scared animals. He doesn't want to put away his knife, doesn't know if this guy will be dangerous after all, but he tries to at least appear less threatening, making himself smaller.

It seems to work, because the boy shifts again, now kneeling instead of crouching, hazy blue eyes gazing up pleadingly. He looks like a supplicant at church, and Daniel isn't surprised when he starts begging.

"Please," he says, voice scratchy and weirdly accented, exhaustion clear in every syllable, "they will...please."

Daniel doesn't know what is going on, but he can still hear screaming somewhere in the woods, can see the boy flinching with it, and he understands enough.

"They're looking for you?" he asks, eyes going from the boy to the woods and back again.

The boy nods, mouthing please once again, no sound to accompany the way he shivers.

Daniel doesn't know if he'll come to regret this decision, but he's not going to leave someone scared and exhausted in the woods, not when he can help. And if the guy decides to attack him, Daniel is pretty sure he'll be able to fend him off. He looks skin and bones.

"My house is straight down that way, the door is open. Go in and close it behind you."

For a second the boy doesn't move, looking at him like he doesn't understand, and Daniel just has the time to start wondering if maybe he really doesn't, maybe doesn't speak this language, before he's clumsily pushing to his feet and running away.

The sounds of the pursuers are growing closer, so Daniel doesn't waste any time, dragging his boot across leaves and mud to hide any traces of the boy falling there and then running away.

He grabs his bag again, then moves away from the clearing, towards the people he can hear approaching.

He's glad he didn't hesitate more, because he's just a few steps away when a group of men bursts through the trees, carrying swords, bows and a lit torch.

They all stop when they see Daniel, but they don't raise their arms. Daniel recognises one of them from a nearby village he sometimes goes to when he needs to buy something.

"You're scaring my food, gentlemen," he says, hoping he sounds as normal as possible. He doubts any of them knows how he normally sounds anyway.

"We're looking for someone," one of the men rushes on, fully ignoring what Daniel said. Rude.

"About this height, looks a bit like a feral animal," adds another, the one with the torch. Danie doesn't like the free fire in his part of the forest and the boy did not look like a feral animal, just like a scared kid, so he doesn't feel particularly moved into helping.

"The only feral animals I've seen are the ones in my bag," Daniel replies, plucking a dead rabbit out of his bag by the ears.

The men look at each other, clearly not believing him, but also eager to just keep going, with or without his help.

"He's dangerous," the one with the sword finally says, "cursed."

Daniel doesn't know if as a warning or if to encourage him to rat the boy out. Daniel refuses to react.

"Well, good luck with your search, then! Thank you for keeping the people safe, and all that."

The man with the torch glares at him, clearly not amused by Daniel's levity, but Daniel just smiles. He doesn't move from his spot as the men grumbles among themselves about which direction to take, but waves when they start running again, slightly more east than Daniel's house.

He waits until he can't hear them anymore, then heads home.

--

When he is in front of his door he pauses. He doesn't want to get inside with his knife out, and the kid looked more scared than dangerous, but he can still hear the man's voice when he had said cursed, like he truly believed it. And it's not a guarantee, people will believe in anyway, he would know, but usually underneath those stories there are slivers of truth.

He still puts the knife away.

When he gets inside everything looks unchanged, enough for him to wonder if the boy just ran off.

"Hey, it's just me," he calls out, just in case. If the boy isn't there nobody will hear him embarrass himself anyway.

For a second nothing changes, but then a shadow near the fireplace moves, and the boy uncurls from his hiding place next to the firewood.

Now that they're no longer among the trees, he looks even worse. There's mud and leaves in his hair and on his clothes, a dark smudge next to his nose. There are several red scratches on his face, and his clothes don't seem to be in a much better condition. He's still holding his leg weirdly.

"Are they gone?" he asks, voice even raspier than earlier. Daniel can see how dry and cracked his lips are, and resolves to get him some water as soon as he's sure he's not going to get killed.

"Seemed to be going towards the river," he nods, pointing east. Then, cutting to the chase, "they said something about you."

He watches the boy flinch, back going rigid, hands splaying on the floor as if he's readying himself to push to his feet and run.

"Are you going to kill me?" Daniel doesn't care about curses, not at the moment at least, but he does care about his life. Mostly.

The boy looks surprised by the question, but shakes his head.

"Have you killed someone?" Daniel asks again, just to make sure.

There is something there, a shift in the guy's expression, but he still shakes his head. Good enough.

Daniel walk towards the table, dropping his bag and his knife, before going to wash his hands. He can feel the boy's eyes on him the whole time, so he's not surprised to find him staring at him when he turns back towards him.

"Is your leg hurt?"

The boy hesitates, probably considering if it is worth to give Daniel a point of weakness just to get some help, but then he nods. He rolls up his pants to show deep puncture wounds, still bleeding.

Daniel hisses, not knowing how the boy was able to not only stand, but run on that. That looks nasty. It looks like a...

"Wolf trap?"

The boy flinches again, and Daniel can see his hands shake. Must be a yes.

"Okay, I'm gonna help you with that, and then we're going to eat, and then you can decide if you want to stay in my amazing company, or if you want to leave. That good for you?"

There is another long pause. The boy seems to have some difficulty processing all those words, even if Daniel doesn't know if there is a language barrier or if it's just the blood loss, but finally he nods, dragging himself slightly further away from his hiding corner.

He extends a hand, looking almost shy, but Daniel has no problem filling the distance separating them and helping him up, watching as his face contorts in pain but no sound escapes his lips.

"I'm Daniel," he says as he helps him towards one of the chairs.

The boy waits until he's taken a couple full breaths after seating before answering.

"Max."

"Well, Max, I'm gonna fix you up, and then I'm gonna change our plans and offer you a bath instead," Daniel says, looking up from where he is grabbing some supplies to grin at Max. "You stink."

For a moment, it looks like Max won't react, the joke falling flat, but then the corner of his lip turns up, his eyes growing slightly less glassy.

"You too," he replies.

It's not much of a joke, but Daniel rewards him with a laugh anyway. Max's small, pleased smile, feels more like a blessing than a curse.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Do you still do alice in borderland requests? If so, then could I request yandere chishiya headcanons? Thanks!!

Yandere Chishiya Headcanons

Warnings: Unhealthy Behaviour, Yandere Behaviour, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Descriptions of Violence and Death, Death, Minor Spoilers for Chishiya's Past, No Pronouns used for Reader except for 'You', etc.

This man acts, looks and feels like a cat; and by that, I mean he's sly, slick, and has little regard for anyone who doesn't benefit him.

All except for you, it would seem.

You were just another person who fell into the Beach's jurisdiction, plucked from the Borderlands and dropped into a thin veneer of humanity.

As expected, you grew to fear the Militants, the games, but you'd found yourself more or less adopted by a loose group of players who just wanted the same as you; to go home.

Chishiya was in the periphery of this group, existing only around the edges, never a centrepiece.

That, was, until he started to take notice of you.

It was harmless curiosity at first; a desire to know exactly who his associates were affiliating with.

After all, you weren't entirely forthcoming with details about yourself, often shifting the conversation to anything else when it included your personal life.

You didn't even have a name, having kept that private, too.

For all anyone was concerned, you could've been a myth - a mystery - with how elusive you were.

Not to mention your penchant for disappearing whenever someone turned their back on you for more than a second.

Unbeknownst to them, you just wanted to be alone, and by keeping information about yourself scarce, you reduced the risk of them becoming attached to you, and vice versa. Isolating yourself in your room seemed to help, too.

Chishiya watched you.

Whenever you were nearby, he had an eye on you, either his own or Kuina's, and would commit your every quirk and habit to memory, trying to find a weak point.

Or, that was what he told himself.

Over time, as he came to see how proficient you were in the games, he saw you as a valuable asset.

During games, he'd scan the area for you whenever he had a spare moment, and his mind wandered to your potential whereabouts - your condition - whenever you weren't in sight.

During one of these games, he couldn't seem to find you anywhere.

Soon enough, he found himself asking Kuina if she'd seen you.

"No," she told him, standing to her full height, the body next to her stripped of supplies. "Why? Something wrong?"

A scream rang out, and Chishiya's ears pricked, attention snapping to the source.

You bolted across the apartment complex on the floor below, pursued by someone - more so something - twice your size, wielding a sword.

Chishiya acted on pure adrenaline and instinct.

He vaguely heard Kuina call his name as he swung over the bannister, jumping onto the floor below and following you.

The behemoth tailed close behind, swinging his sword whenever he thought he could catch either you or Chishiya.

The sound of two sets of footsteps pursuing you forced you to push harder, run faster, eventually causing you to veer off into a room you thought would be safe.

It was little more than a dead end.

Spinning on your heel, you turned to leave the way you came, but you knew it was a futile attempt.

Two men ran in after you, one which you recognised form the Beach, the other a monster.

The smaller of the two grabbed you, pulling you aside as the giant swung his sword down upon you, almost severing you on the spot.

Weighed down with his own strength and withdrawing the sword, Chishiya took his chance.

He slipped a knife from the inside of his jacket and, before the man in the mask could begin to defend himself, plunged it into his ribs.

He didn't stop; he just kept tearing the knife into his middle, crippling him each time.

And you watched from the sidelines, curled up in the corner.

You slid to the ground and curled up.

The ordeal was over quicker than you'd expect.

Chishiya panted and looked over to you.

Seeing you shivering in the corner, he approached, keeping the knife out of your sight (and reach), offering his hand to you.

You took it, gingerly, and pulled yourself up.

With his hand still in yours, the silence of the room ringing in your ears, your body acted of its own accord.

You pulled him to you and pressed yourself into his chest.

Tears welled in your eyes and soaked into Chishiya's jacket.

He...didn't know what to do.

Initially he thought you were attacking him, ready to gut him with a concealed weapon.

But, the longer you remained tucked into his chest, sniffles becoming sobs, that possibility diminished.

His body knew what to do - what the human answer to your actions was - but his mind couldn't follow through.

And yet, the former won.

Slowly, cautiously, his arms found your middle and held you, not firm enough to keep you there, but tight enough that Chishiya could feel your fear.

It was in that second that, feeling you pressed tightly against him, he realised what human warmth felt like.

In all his years of training to be a doctor, he'd heard of this phenomenon (a phenomenon to him, a commonality for everyone else) yet had never experienced it.

He dared to look down at you as he cradled your shaking body in his arms.

Something washed over him. A feeling - a primal urge.

He couldn't place his finger on it, but he knew it was caused by you, by your cowering.

And yet, it was not a desire to see you suffer, nor to push you away. So what was it?

Kuina came running, speeding round the corner. Her eyes fell upon you and Chishiya before drifting over to the body.

She seemed more interested in what the two of you were doing, though Chishiya tried to discourage her with a dark glint in his eye.

Whatever she was going to say died in her throat, and she looked away, pretending never to have seen Chishiya in such a vulnerable position.

He looked down at you once more.

He knew you couldn't stay like this for long, even if he wanted to.

"What's your name?" he said, keeping his voice monotone as he fought to escape the haze you'd cast over him.

You sniffed, seemed to consider his question, then looked to him with wide, glassy eyes.

His heart jumped.

"(Y/N)."

After that, Chishiya became your unofficial protector of sorts.

Your "Guardian," as he referred to himself to Kuina.

He'd told her it was purely to gain your trust, to make you rely on him so that, when the time came, he could sacrifice you.

And yet, every time he tried thinking of ways he could use you, the memory of you flush against him, eyes red and cheeks sodden with tears, flashed in his mind.

Your warmth would encompass him - for a few seconds, no more - and he would be overcome with that feeling again.

He would never dare to confide in Kuina, nor himself about it.

He'd tried shoving that feeling down, putting it out of his mind.

Yet it always returned. And one night, it hit him.

The answer to his hypotheses.

He sat bolt upright in bed, looking dead ahead, as if he could see through the walls and saw you sleeping in your room.

It was protectiveness.

That feeling - that need - was the urge to protect you, to keep you out of harm's way.

From that moment on, you became the object of his obsession.

He understood that you were now his weakness, and so to protect himself, he needed to protect you.

He watches you as he did before he knew you.

Diverted your path when necessary - whenever Niragi was nearby, he'd steer you down another corridor under the pretense of needing to "Discuss the next game with you."

During these conversations, he'd learn a little more about you, though you remained guarded.

He wanted to be offended at your lack of willing, but he understood you too well to begrudge your way of thinking.

The two of you were quite similar in that regard.

You were an oyster of sorts; a shell on the outside, yet possessing a treasure within.

Chishiya would try pushing you a little more, trying to discern your interests, your hopes, your dreams, your life before the Borderlands.

Soon enough, Chishiya was not satisfied by your mere hallway meetings, instead requesting to meet you in private under the guise of keeping your conversations quiet, for there were "Eyes everywhere," according to him.

He wasn't wrong, which was what made it so easy for him to get you alone.

When you weren't talking about the games, your conversations would shift to a more personal tone.

You'd share very minimal information about yourself, and, though he didn't show it, Chishiya found himself hanging on your every word.

You actually shared some interests in common, like your literature preferences, your appreciation for Renaissance art, and your overall logical way of thinking.

Chishiya found these moments to be the most intimate ones he'd ever experienced, despite no physical contact being involved.

His eyes would drift to your arms, remembering how you'd clung to him that night when he'd rescued you.

And how he so desired to feel them around him again.

Not that he'd ever say this, of course.

He fantasizes about holding you a lot.

Considering how everything is so unstable in the Borderlands, the security you gave him, and the security he felt over you, made him feel safe. A commodity in the Borderlands.

He's started stealing some of your belongings, too.

Well, of the few you have.

He stole your pillow case and put it over his pillow so he can smell you when he's drifting off to sleep, imagining you there with him, calming him.

Considering all the pillow cases in the Beach were identical, you'd never be able to tell.

He gets a bit of a thrill out of you being so close to something of yours he's taken whenever you come over to his room.

Makes him feel alive in a way the games don't.

It makes him feel human; like he's discovering love for the first time.

One evening, he had the idea of purposely endangering you during the games just so he could swoop in and save you.

The idea was a fleeting fancy, nothing more. But it haunted him, watched him.

And he found himself enacting it.

And, sure enough, it worked.

During one particularly stressful game, you'd lost a key you needed to unlock a door and find a ticket, which would give you your escape.

The keys had been well hidden throughout the map, and when you'd found yours, you hoped and prayed the door it unlocked would actually have a ticket behind it.

Chishiya had finished a good ten minutes before you, and when your back had been turned, he'd swiped your key from the band of your swimsuit, pocketing it, disappearing behind a corner before you'd even realised what had happened.

And now he watched you panic, cry, and near give up as the timer counted down when you found your precious key gone.

He reveled in your distress, as ashamed as he'd be to say it. The fruits of his labour hung over him in his mind's eye; the feeling of you pressed tightly against him.

Chishiya appeared behind you like a phantom, presenting the key to you.

"Found this a few minutes ago; thought you'd have some use for it."

You near wept into his chest, just as you had done during your first meeting.

You were never in any real danger, Chishiya made sure of that.

But he needed to make you believe that you were so his plans would take full effect.

That evening, you barely left his side, sticking close to him.

You just needed some form of comfort, something to help you make sense of what had nearly happened.

This was the second time he'd saved you, protected you from death, and you weren't going to let him out of your sight.

That was far too close for your liking. Losing your key like that - you had no idea how you'd managed to do such a thing.

And Chishiya consoled you throughout the night, reveling in how you held his hand, cried into his shoulder, berated yourself for being so careless with the literal key to your survival.

His heart thrummed, and he near purred at the feeling of your skin on his as you rested your head on his shoulder, wrapped in his jacket.

He felt like he owned you.

And that's how Chishiya wanted you: dependent on him and him alone.

And now, with you sleeping at his side, nestled into his chest, he counted the infinite ways he could make that so - how he could keep you with him.

Forever.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist

Masterpost

[pendarling]

Letters & Masks

Villain was never interested in the identity of Hero without the mask, but watching them feign a look of confidence encouraged the criminal to give Hero a little scare.

They circled Hero's body as they sat on the floor with their wrists and ankles bound together.

"Never thought you'd end up in this position?" Villain mused. Their steps halted in front of the other, and they knelt to take a good look at their face.

Hero smiled softly, "It's not too far off, actually."

They blinked momentarily until they understood the explicit but subtle message. Villain's eyebrows raised, "Very funny,"

"I'm even funnier if you got to know me aside from fighting me now and then."

"Well, that mask of yours would be a great first step." They stood up and dusted their pants, "but I can tell you're committed to that part."

Hero watched their shoes click away over to the other side of the room, where they then picked up a blade. It was smaller than the average kitchen knife and looked similar to a sword if they were honest; intricate shapes and detailed patterns blended into fuzzy lines as Hero tried to focus on it from a distance.

"Are you going to torture me with that? It'd be a shame to get blood all over it." They sighed with a half smile.

Villain chuckled deeply and inspected the tool in their hand. "Oh no, darling, this isn't for you." They lifted a letter and cut it open gently, "You really think so negatively of me? I'm much kinder to my prisoners." 

Their hand pulled out a piece of paper, which they read; the room went silent shortly. Hero was grateful as they let their embarrassment settle down. Obviously, Villain had no evil intentions, at least not to the degree that would be directed at them. 

"What does it say?"

Villain was amused at their attempts to keep up the conversation. They quickly folded the page and gazed back at Hero as they sat patiently on the wooden floorboards.

"Someone is already coming to look for you. Aren't you excited?" 

Hero stared at the red envelope. Villain lifted it to place the letter back in and squinted their eyes. "Huh. I think I know that person," They tilted their head to see the insignia better.

Their nemesis gazed at the location their eyes were fixated on and found the small label on the corner of the envelope. They shook their head, "You seem to know a lot of things, Hero."

"No. I do know them."

"How?"

"You know how you were asking me earlier about who I am under the mask?"

Their curiosity peaked, and suddenly, Villain felt themselves focused on Hero's words. 

"They saw me without it."

A subtle shift in the air alerted Hero to something relatively unfamiliar from Villain's aura. They glared at them and remained quiet, "bullshit."

"I would never lie." They pushed.

It was a tension they didn't think they'd experienced before, but Hero knew they might've just made Villain jealous, and it was a little too late to put the fire under control. 

"I-it wasn't anything though." They softly laughed with dismissiveness. 

"When?" Villain approached guardedly. Their presence presented a threatening message. 

Hero scooted back slightly, but their back had already hit the wall. "Last…" shouldn't they lie? It happened last year, but if Villain knew they could keep secrets from them for this long, they would interrogate them forever for every minute detail they could barely recall.

Their nemesis bent down closer now, right next to their side and fiddled loosely with the letter opener. Its sharp edge reflected the light to the corner of their eye.

"When??" They repeated impatiently. "Or are you playing games with me again, because Hero, if you are—" the blade tip slipped under the mask. "I swear to God…" they trailed off and left Hero to finish the sentence. 

Their eyes didn't meet the other, and they stared ahead with slight concern, "I was just kidding-!" Their smile came out awkward, "Jeez, you really are gullible to believe all that," Villain pushed the blade higher, and Hero gasped as the metal grazed the edge of their eye, "O-okay! Okay! Okay!" They nervously made eye contact with Villain. "It wasn't like I wanted to. It just suddenly came off."

"What? The wind did it?" Villain's lips curled into a smile, not buying an ounce of Hero's desperation. 

They nervously shifted their body, although part of themselves feared that moving any more would make the blade cut into their skin. Villain wouldn't let that happen, would they?

"No... it was... forcibly removed." They anxiously breathed in rapid, short breaths with eyes darting back and forth from the knife to Villain's eyes.

Villain moved the knife from underneath the mask, their jealousy simmering into something sympathetic at their words. They firmly pressed down on the cold tool against their skin by the flat end. Hero only then realized how warm their face was. "You know I'm not the type to do such things." They murmured. 

An eventual relief ran through them, yet, at the same time, a sense of comfort unexpectedly entered. They weren't opposed to it, but the fact that it was Villain had made them briefly question their morals. 

Their skin slightly tingled as Villain's agonizingly slow pace of the knife rounded their jawline and moved downwards from their neck until it came to rest on the bare skin of their collarbone. Another inch more, and they'd be cutting into their suit.

Hero's heart ran. Their gazes were still locked in a silent conversation. A flicker of choices delivered itself to Hero; one of the thoughts suggested something out of line, something they didn't want to believe they would even attempt. 

How could they...?

Or... maybe they would dare?

As much as Hero tried, they couldn't help but lean a little closer. Just enough to let their lips graze but still deny it any satisfaction. Villain stayed still, although they admired the courage with a knowing look. They could feel their captive's hesitation overtake them with such a heavy decision.

Villain was better at commanding, so they sorrowfully abided when they pushed Hero away, forfeitting their battle.

"Let's not forget our roles here, Hero."

They stood up, the floorboards creaking as the sound followed Villain back to the desk with the crimson letter. They opened a drawer and set the small tool into it before seating themselves on the desk in an attempt to collect themselves. Hero noticed their breathing turn harsh; the letter in their grasp, whether out of anger at the information they'd revealed or not, they weren't sure. 

What they did know was whatever thoughts made it into Villain's head had managed to convince the Villain to rip it into several pieces and toss it into the trash. 

~~~

MASTERLIST

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Training- Legolas x Hobbit!Reader

Summary: Legolas comes to help reader with sword training and some heated confessions are made.

Word count: 1, 662

A/N: I requested this story to @intoxicated-chan a while ago because I wasn’t sure if I’d ever write it but now I have, so if you like my version then definitely read theirs here

The forest clearing was still as you snuck away from the group to practise. While Boromir was training Merry and Pippin, he had joked that you don’t need training, as you were vicious enough with your knife.

You wanted to be brave and tough, to do your part in the fellowship, but living in the Shire you had not had much experience with fighting. A little dagger you had once bought and sometimes kept on you being the only weapon at your disposal felt a little pathetic.

Aragorn had seen your disdain at the comment and had handed you one of his smaller swords and told you of this clearing.

“Take this, there’s a little clearing just past those woods. Remember your stance and fluid movement. Be back before the sun is low and come back if there’s trouble.” He had quietly encouraged you with a fatherly smile and a nod of his head.

Now you stood in the field, trying to remember what you had briefly seen Boromir teach your friends, as you heard someone approach from behind. Swinging your borrowed sword viciously, but gracelessly, you saw it was only Legolas.

“I’m so sorry for disturbing your training, shield maiden of the Shire. I only worry that one so lovely and vicious might just be taken from me.” Legolas jokingly smirked down at you.

Since the beginning of this journey, Legolas had often liked to joke and compliment you. If he had been a fellow hobbit you might believe he was flirting, but he was an elf prince and you couldn’t believe such things, even if you did want them to be true.

Though he was not handsome in the way male hobbits are, he had a different kind of beauty. Where male hobbits beauty comes from their actions and the way they can make you laugh, Legolas’ simple came from who he was. Legolas is beautiful like how a flower is, it needn’t do anything but sway and bloom and the beauty is there.

You couldn’t stare at him for long, and you tried not to show how his words affected you. Being a hobbit on this journey you already had to prove yourself enough, but being a woman made it even more difficult. Your brother, Samwise, could get by because he was kind and had a confidence in his own right, but you felt you had to try hard to be taken seriously.

“I’m only trying to earn my place among you all, there is no need to make fun.” You stood up for yourself, trying to sound more brave and strong, and less like a whining child.

It seems your attempts at strength worked as Legolas was taken aback.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to offend you. I had only come to see if I could aid you with your training. I do not jest when I say that you have a warrior spirit, it could just do with some refining is all.” Legolas gently explained with a sweet and kind smile.

“What would an elf know of swordsmanship? I thought your kind were archers.” You asked him, still on the defence.

Legolas smirked down at you as he began to step closer, now barely an arms length from you.

“My people have many skills, little warrior,” he began to explain as he was now crouching before you, “don’t forget I am not as young as I seem and as a prince I have had more training then just archery.” He teases back as he flicks your nose cutely.

“Well what kind of refining do I need, Mr. Fancy Elvish Prince.” You tease back, taking a bit of his braid from behind his ear and flicking it, as he had flicked your nose.

His lovely face shone as he sweetly laughed at your returned gesture.

“Well how about we start with stance, little warrior.” He smiled warmly at you as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingers ever so slightly on your cheek.

Feeling his finger lightly brush your cheek had your eyes fluttering, but luckily you were quick to recover as you turned to show your stance.

Remembering what you had heard from Boromirs training, and seen in the fights you had encountered thus far, you held your stance as best you could.

“Not bad, but just remember,” suddenly you felt Legolas’ delicate but strong fingers on your waist, “your hips need to be facing towards your enemy.” You hotly whisper in your ear, making you shudder with need.

Though he had adjusted your stance, his hands did not leave your body, in fact he adjusted his position to hold you closer. He was now knelt on one knee as his other leg was bent beside you, and his front was pushed more into your back as his hands slid down to your hip.

Your sword was becoming heavy, but even as you dropped it, he didn’t seem to mind, in fact it just made his touches more eager and bold.

Now holding your hips, he pushed you back into himself and you could feel how excited this was making him, as his hardness pushed against your back.

“You are so beautiful, y/n, I just can’t help but need to touch you. Please tell me if this makes you uncomfortable.” He gently whispered in your ear.

Even as you could feel his need pulsing through him, he was still so gentle and sweet.

Turning your body in his grip slightly to face him, your small hands run against his cheek and into his soft hair.

“Don’t stop, Legolas.” You softly spoke as you hold onto his hair, pushing him closer to you.

At hearing your approval, he can’t help but let out a growl as he pushes you into the soft grass below with a passionate kiss. Your grip on his hair tightens as he lowers your body and his hovers above your.

With one hand beside your head to keep his body from pressing too hard against yours, his other gently runs up and down your form. His sweet touch beginning at your neck, down your breast, your waist, your hip, your legs and back again.

His touch on your body was delicate and sweet but his kiss was another but. His kisses were dominant and desperate as his mouth devoured yours. As he deepened the kiss and his tongue slipped into your mouth, you tugged on his hair even tighter, a muffled moan being heard from both of you.

His lips broke from yours and his grip tightened against your thigh as his head pulled back with a moan. Looking down on you, his gaze was animalistic and you could see how the kiss was affecting him from the tent in his trousers.

Growling once again, he bent down as he pressed open mouthed kisses across your neck and chest, making sweet moans and whimpers pass through your parted lips.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you, little one. I try to be good and respectful of one so sweet but you make my body become obsessed.” He confesses as he kisses along your chest.

Raising his head, there is a serious look in his eye as he gazes at you.

“I can not stand to have another near you. When Boromir carried you the other day, I felt a jealousy I had never felt before. I want you to be mine and me be yours.” He continued his confession, his touch now much more gentle as he sweetly caressed your face.

Hearing this makes you realise that all his comments and jokes truly were flirting, and that you weren’t just imagining it. While you want to live in and embrace this moment, you can’t help but feel a self consciousness creep through your mind.

Your hand once in his hair now comes down to play with the ties of your shirt as you begin to worry.

“Legolas, you’re an elvish prince and I’m just a hobbit from the Shire. I would love nothing more than to be with you, but it’s not right.” You explain as you begin to feel tears fill your eyes.

Your tears do not have a chance to drop however, as Legolas wipes them away and lifts your head. Looking up into his eyes, you see nothing but love and compassion.

“I am not bound by anything that means I can not care for you. I am my own being and if my heart has chosen you and if you will have me, then it is you I want,” gently he lifts you to sit in his lap as he continues to explain, “you have captured my heart in a way I can not explain and I want you in every way there is to want another. Please do not push me away because of our differences.” He sweetly reassures you, his lips coming to gently press against yours.

When he pulls back from the gentle kiss, his head is still pressed against yours.

“If you promise to kiss and touch me like that again, I am yours.” You cheekily assure him.

A light chuckle leaves his lips as his smile grows.

“Oh believe me, little warrior, I intend to do much more than just kiss and touch you like that.” He assures as he stares hungrily at you.

“And though I wish to take you right on this forest floor without a care in the world, I think we unfortunately need to head back.”

Looking away from his gorgeous eyes, you realise how low the sun was truly getting. Before you could think to stand, Legolas is lifting you in his arms, causing a small gasp to leave your lips.

“I’ll put you back down as we get closer to camp, but I just need to hold you a bit longer.” Legolas tells you, with a sweet kiss to your temple.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Blood Sport

Feyd Rautha x Y/N - drabble part 2 - 1.2K WC

Part 1

Part 2 (you are here!)

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: violence, blood, blood eating/drinking (BRIEF AF), sword/knife fighting, reader is just built different, she is THAT bitch, slow burn, this man is falling slowly for your ruthless ass

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

You walked into the training arena. A large black room with a plethora of weapons to choose from. Everything was of Harkonnen design, curved heavy blades with thicker handles. You preferred your own Cruor weapons, thin balanced straight blades that were easy to move quickly so your nails could also become improvised weapons. You took your personal blades from your maid before dismissing them, wanting to be alone to train. You readied yourself before slashing expertly at the training dummies, practicing a technique taught to you by the monks of Succo. 

House Cruor had occupied the planet Succo long before you were born; all ancient teachings were still taught. Especially to you as the sole heir. You were just as deadly as you were intelligent. Legend has it that the Sardaukar held only a fraction of the battle knowledge the monks of Succo had. Such a powerful but secretive house, you were almost forgotten as your planet was at the far reaches of the universe. Nobody went there unless they had a purpose. The cold dark planet shrouded in red darkness full of blood magic. You thought of your home, how you already missed its ethereal red glow. How you were now stuck on Geidi Prime, promised to a man who was rumored to be psychotic. From what you gathered, he found himself to be impenetrable. Arrogant. You would not bring shame to your house by refusing the marriage, Harkonnens are formidable in battle and useful allies. But that did not mean you had to become some cowering pup. You would show them all just how strong House Cruor is. 

Lost in your training you barely heard the door open and shut. You threw your smaller blade behind you without looking, defense mode taking over your brain. When you turned, poising yourself with your larger blade, ready to attack, you saw Feyd with your knife in his hand. Blood trickled down his hand but he didn’t seem to mind it. You could smell it across the room, it was tart but somehow sweet. It made your mouth water in anticipation of tasting it. Feyd lowered his hand, looking at your knife before tossing it aside. He pulled one of the Harkonnen swords off the nearby wall before walking towards you. You grunted, sharpening your eyes and standing your ground when he got to close. You listened to his blood pump, his heart beat quickly. 

“Are you afraid to fight?” you asked him.

He answered with a scoff, “Afraid? Of you?”

“You should be.” you said, “Your heart beat tells me you are.” you smirked, egging him on.

His face hardened, he struck out at you multiple times, you dodged each strike without even lifting your blade. You laughed at him, moving fluidly as if this were child's play for you. His face grew angrier with each strike that missed.

“Fight if you are going to fight!” he yelled, “Or is it you who is afraid?” he spat.

Wrong words. You lunged at him, slashing wildly but with expert precision. He did his best to dodge your blows but you were faster, more skilled. You kicked out his leg before slashing his hand with your nails, causing him to drop his sword. You went down with him, straddling his chest so your legs could hold his arms down. You held your sword behind you while holding your nails to his throat. Little pin pricks left a droplet trail of blood down his neck. 

Both of you were breathing heavily, “I have you.” you said mere inches away from his face.

He looked at you, bewildered. Amazed by your skill, nobody had ever bested him so quickly. 

“Yield?” you asked, pressing your nails slightly harder.

Feyd groaned, but not out of pain. Out of sheer arousal. He did his best to hide it, alter it. After a moment he nodded. You stood quickly, holding out a hand to help him up. He looked at you for a moment before grabbing your hand with his bleeding one and hoisting himself up with your aid. You looked at the crimson on your hand before licking the dribble up. Your eyes fluttered shut, he was sweet. Like some sort of rich, deep wine that you wanted to drown in. Your fangs ached for more. 

“Do I taste good?” he asked with a smirk.

You opened your eyes to see his arrogant face, how you loathed that face. You quickly spat the blood on the floor, “Absolutely vile.” you replied to him. 

You picked up your knife before heading towards the door. 

“Wait!” he said with urgency. 

You turned to look at him, giving him a quizzical look. 

“Train me.” he said.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Please… train me… you are a worthy opponent.” he said with sincerity.

Your heart softened a bit at his wanting to learn from you and admitting you were a great warrior. You nodded at him before leaving.

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

You stayed in your room for the day, the blinding light of the black sun on Geidi Prime was getting tiring walking in every day. You had black out curtains installed to somewhat resemble home. Light was not deadly to the Cruor but it was irritating; like a pebble in your shoe. 

You heard a knock on your door, thinking it was one of your maids you allowed them to enter. You laid on your bed with your eyes closed in a lengthy black robe that was ever so slightly sheer. 

“What is it?” you asked.

“I have something for you.” said a gruff voice. 

You shot up, “What do you want?” you asked, surprised he was in your chambers. 

Feyd held out a small disc. “What’s that?” you said moving slightly closer to him.

He moved to your bed, standing almost chest to chest with you at the end of it. He set the disc down before activating it. The room filled with stars and a familiar red glow, the red supergiant your people referred to as Rubrum glowing in the corner. 

You looked around amazed, surprisingly happy to be with Feyd at this moment. Feyd watched as you looked around, admiring your beautifully striking features. He was growing to like you and thought this olive branch might soften you towards him a bit. For some reason, the setup brought a few tears to your eyes.

“What is it?” Feyd asked.

“I miss Succo… I miss home…” you said, looking on at the stars and Rubrum. You used to get this view everyday, yet it almost felt like a distant memory looking at it now. 

Feyd’s heart dropped a little, “Geidi Prime is not to your liking?” he asked, looking on at the stars with you. 

“It is too bright… and lonely.” you said, mumbling the last bit.

Feyd softly turned you to face him with a finger under your chin, “Keep this, enjoy your home view whenever you wish it.” 

You locked your eyes with his, his eyes glancing to your lips then back up repeatedly. You softly dragged one of your claws over his cheek bones. Turning his head, you gently kissed his cheek. “Thank you Feyd.” you said with sincerity. 

His name sounded so perfect on your lips, he wanted to hear you say it over and over again. “Feyd huh?” he remarked.

“Do you expect me to call you Lord Na-Baron Feyd Rautha? Because I will not be doing that.” you said, backing away from him. 

Feyd smiled, amused with your attitude. He had never met someone so sure of themself.

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

Naboo's Note:

Yeeeeee were getting into it!! This series is gonna be so fun I just know it. I'm gonna try to make it a slow burn but I have never been great those so here's to hoping. Thanks for all the love around my idea, I really have a lot of hope and ideas for it so its nice to see other people think my weird space vampires are cool. XOXOXOXOXOXOXO, talk soon!

[xfgpng]

Hotaru Haganezuka

— : [nsfw] unprotected sex, pet names + mentions of blood

— : kink :: knife play

he’s good with swords. it’s always been his passion and he likes the way you sit and watch him, glancing at his hands shyly every time he gets to work.

he notices the way you squeeze your thighs together when he’s using smaller daggers and knives. it could be for work or when he’s simply making dinner, you’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are and he finds it adorable as much as he finds it sexy.

his sweet wife had a thing for sharp knives?

he’d laugh if he didn’t like it so much because if he was being honest, the idea of holding you up against the wall with a knife placed gently against your throat makes him hard.

“see something you like sweetheart?” he asks and he sees the moment your eyes glaze over before you scoff and look away from him.

“stop talking nonsense” you say dryly, “am i not allowed to watch my husband anymore?”

“oh baby” he laughs, “you can do more than just watch”

you roll your eyes but he sees the way you swallow and fix your skirt. it’s your tell and he’d never get tired of reading you.

“come here” he says and you do as you’re told even though you act like you don’t want to. you both know this silly game you like to play, letting him have his way every time.

“you’re so bossy” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pushes you up against the wall behind you.

you gasp when he lifts your skirt up, using the knife in his free hand to cut your panties off you. he moves fast and you bite back a moan, refusing to let him know how good he makes you feel despite not doing anything.

“i liked those!” you frown, slapping his chest.

“too fucking bad” he chuckles, pressing the cold metal of the blade against your throat, “i’ll just buy you new ones”

“you’re so— fuck” you grip his arm as he slams into you without warning. it hurts but just the way you like it and it’s not like it’s been that long, your husband was insatiable and had fucked you gently this morning.

“there she is” he grins, licking his lips as he stares down at your lips and then the blade pressed closer than he had intended.

his eyes widen when he sees the thin cut and the tiny droplets of blood. he moves to pull away, apologising profusely but you grab him by the back of his head and kiss him hard.

he feels it then, the way you clench and unclench around him and how wet you are. his mind goes blank for a moment and all he can think about is being inside you and the knife still pressing into your skin.

it’s no longer pressed that hard against your throat but it sends a spark up your spine when you feel how cold it is and how warm he feels inside you.

your head lols to the side and he takes the opportunity to kiss and bite, licking the spot where the blade had accidentally cut you.

“feel good baby?” he whispers and you nod, moaning against his lips when he moves to kiss you again

“who knew you’d be such a perv” he scoffs, thrusting harder and pushing you further up the wall.

you can’t really argue with him, too busy moaning and chasing your high. he can’t take his eyes off you, from the way your eyes cross to the way your mouth hangs open. he’s always found you so beautiful but like this? you looked the best.

the knife pressed up against your neck looks good against your skin and he knows he won’t be able to get the image out his mind for weeks.

he wonders if you’d be interested in trying other things but the way you squeeze around him tells him everything he needs to know.

he smirks and leans in to kiss you.

[blaiddfailcam]

Ranni and Miquella's crossed fates

I've briefly mentioned before my thoughts on Ranni and Miquella's intertwined fates and their potential cooperation, but I swear I keep finding more and more subtle hints and decided I should probably start jotting them down, if only for my own amusement.

Some of these are observations, others are my own theories based on said observations. Take them with a sizeable grain of salt.

Torrent and the spiritcalling bell

The Shadow of the Erdtree promo art appears to imply that Miquella was Torrent's former master. Ranni was entrusted the spiritcalling bell by this enigma.

Torrent was entrusted to Melina, who by deduction is potentially Miquella and Malenia's amnesiac sister. It wasn't just chance that brought the two together, but could have been part of Miquella's plan all along.

The spiritcalling bell shares a similar function to those used by Revenant Worshippers to summon forth wraiths. For whatever reason, Revenants appear numerously in areas associated with either Miquella or Ranni, and seldom elsewhere.

His name calls to mind rushing waters, falling in line with the theme of flowing water to counter stagnation and rot. Malenia was tutored by the Blind Swordsman, after all, whose flowing sword sealed the Outer God of Rot long ago.

Torrent's eyes are the same pure gold color as the Miquellan Albinaurics, differentiated by their uniform pigmentation from the golden irises of "grace-given" beings.

Conescrated Snowfield's relevance to Ranni

It is the only location where Rimed Crystal Buds grow, an ingredient used expressly for crafting Frost Pots, a weapon devised specifically by Ranni's servants.

The white bowers are only found elsewhere in the regions of Siofra River, surrounding Nokron. Likewise, two Followers can be found in the Snowfield.

Astel reappears in Yelough Anix Tunnel.

Black Knife Assassins lend aid to Ordina to guard the Haligtree from unwanted guests.

Consecrated Snowfield's situation at the northernmost region of the map, west of the Mountaintops of the Giants, parallels the positions of the Dark Moon and the Full Moon in the northern sky, as seen from the Moonlight Altar.

Carian influences in Elphael

Loretta, a knightess of Caria, elected the land of the Haligtree to be the most promising refuge for the Albinaurics of Liurnia, pledging fealty to Miquella while maintaining a protective spell over her former house. She was not marked a traitor to Caria, suggesting an alliance between the two houses.

The Miquellan Knight's Sword illustrates a clear borrowing of craftsmanship by the Haligtree, modeled after Carian weaponry, yet substituting holy amber for glintstone.

On the contrary, the Black Leather Shield, purchased from Pidia the Albinauric, appears to hint at the location of the Haligtree: "From the north, this shield depicts the polar star in rivets of gold." The Celtic motifs typical of Miquellan weapons and armor faintly trace the edges of the shield.

There's also the mystery of the Amber Starlight Shard. Pidia offers a map leading to a hidden statue of Miquella and Malenia where the shard is found; Seluvis requires the shard to try and gain control over Ranni. The shard itself is said to be the lost fate of a demigod...

Ranni and Miquella's lost Great Runes

Certain details suggest the Great Rune of the Unborn had actually been intended for Miquella, from its function as a device for rebirth, to the amber egg that cradles it, even down to how its shape matches Malenia's Great Rune, albeit smaller and pure gold.

The children reborn of the amber egg all possess eyes of mixed gold and greenish-blue. Strangely, this mixed pigmentation only appears elsewhere in the eyes of Revenant Worshippers, again reinforcing that bizarre connection with at least one of the two Empyreans in question.

Ranni also lacks a Great Rune, yet a somewhat commonheld theory is that the moon bears a marking that can be seen within the Elden Ring, yet isn't connected to any of the other Great Runes. It depicts a vertical line intersected with upward arcs, like a sort of ripple.

This sigil is also seen in the Ripple Blades carried by young Albinaurics, and even in the Haligtree Crest itself. Though the number of "ripples" and their curvatures vary, the general symbol remains consistent.

Blind guesses as to what it all means

A sword memorial in Altus Plateau reads as follows:

"A sovereign alliance rots from within.

"Traces yet remain of bloody conspiracy."

At first, I thought this might have been referring to Mohg and Miquella, and that Mohg had sworn an alliance with the Haligtree in conspiracy to abduct the sleeping Empyrean. However, it's not entirely unlikely that it could refer to Ranni and Miquella's alliance, and perhaps their potential conspiracy that would culminate in the death of Godwyn and the shattering of the Elden Ring.

While Miquella had clearly worked to either ensure Godwyn would die a true death, or that he could restore his soul through the rite at Castle Sol, but either failed or was thwarted, just like when Mohg abducted him from the Haligtree. For all we know, maybe Ranni even deceived Miquella with a pact.

As for their missing Great Runes, and the Haligtree's plantation in a region more befitting a Lunar Princess, I almost get the sense that, having clarified her intent to rid herself of her Empyrean destiny, Ranni offered Miquella passage to the north, and possibly even the Great Rune she had inherited. This effectively allowed them to trade fates, but it remains to be seen what Miquella/Trina's plans truly were, if the DLC might offer any hints.

Or, perhaps their fates had been entangled from the beginning, starting with Radagon's sly subjugation of the Carian lineage, and his vow of silence enforced upon the Carian Preceptors to hide what the stars might portend. Either way, it seems clear that Ranni and Miquella harbored a mutual distaste for the stagnation of the Golden Order.

...I'm fully prepared for this theory to split apart at the seams when Shadow of the Erdtree drops (hopefully soonish??????). Still, it's fun to mull over in the meantime.

[yaesnovels]

eternal (snippet)

blade x fem!reader

tw; battle with swords and a knife, mention of almost-but-not-really-serious injuries.

a/n: just wrote this bit in the bus on my notes app in like fifteen minutes. not proofread obvi, don‘t mind any mistakes please and thank you <3

"fuck, blade, okay. you win. i give up", you whisper breathlessly, dropping your sword that you were fighting the stellaron hunter despite knowing how much more advanced he was with his swordsmanship than you and you basically stood no chance.

"oh yeah? you give up? nice try", blade shot you a glance — nothing but hatred in his eyes — as he, too, dropped his sword but grabbed a smaller knife to hold it against your throat, the sharpness slightly cutting into your skin causing you to hiss in pain.

"i give up, ren. i—"

"don‘t. you. dare. call me ren. you lost that privilege when you betrayed me", blade pressed the knife more into your throat, just slightly next to where he would hit your carotid artery.

"blade. i‘m so sorry. i wish i had the chance to explain before you come to the conclusion to kill me like you absolutely have any right to. but i am perfectly fine knowing that i spent some of my most beautiful moments in life with you. i am just so sorry that i hurt you like that. i never intended to", you said, voice nothing but a mere whisper as some blood dripped onto your shirt and you were trying to move your head as little as possible.

before he would finally end your life.

to your surprise, he pulled the knife away. he was looking at you with tears in his eyes — something you had only experienced once in your short time as one of the stellaron hunters.

when you betrayed him and fought against him alongside the members of the astral express.

only he didn‘t know that you did this because of your love for him. because you wanted to be with him for all eternity instead of leaving him eventually because you grew old and he was stuck with his immortality.

here is a random draft i came up with. plan is to write this once i‘m back in germany on wednesday and post it by next weekend <3

this might end up having smut tho i might also just keep it angsty. not sure yet on that part.

[i-am-a-living-god]

More TMNC doodles! (Weapons addition!)

Aight so, I realized that I cant just assign their actual weapons to them, because well, they're cats. That would be super unpractical! It'd be like bringing a fork to a knife fight.

So due to cats wielding human weapons being useless, (and I can't give them just claws because they will be fighting human Ninjas with swords, that'd be to dangerous.) I gave some of them strap on weapons for their forepaw.

I gave this kind of weapon to Leo and Mikey.

I gave Leo sharp gauntlet things. They are a strap-on knife thingy, they are a sheet of curved metal with knives on the backside. Basically, the idea is that instead of ripping people apart with claws, he can run past them, and leave a deep wound before the person realizes what's happening.

The gauntlets were also inspired by shredder a bit.

The cats collective fighting style is very, quick, and evasive as possible. Because they are small cats, they are at a severe disadvantage.

So they try to finish the fight as quickly as possible, with minimal blows.

They use their small size to their advantage, and easily blend into shadows. (It also helps that they can hide in plain sight.) This allows them to get the jump on people, the element of surprise is usually on their side.

So I gave Mikey tonfa's, (I drew them wrong, so use your imagination.) I chose this weapons, because 1. They spin, And 2. They work well with the whole, strapped to the forepaw thing.

Overall I felt like this was a good fit for Mikey.

Do Donnie doesn't have a forepaw weapon yet, as in, I couldn't think of one that would suit him.

So instead I just gave him a bō staff, but smaller and easier to wield for a cat. I realized that I could still give him the bō because it isn't that heavy, and he could hold ig in his mouth, or maneuver it around with his paws and it would be a non-issue for the most part.

So Raph, I feel like he would be way bigger on the whole claws thing. Like if I gave him a special weapon, he would still use his claws and teeth for the most part.

But he can't just do that, because he's going up against humans with swords! So I gave him a minny sai, so he can use it improperly and stab with it to his little hearts content.

I also gave him a spiked cuff around his tail, I feel like he'd enjoy bashing people with it. And also a little wrist cuff with a spike on it.

All the cats have a little cuff with a spike on their tail, as an extra little weapon, but Raph actually uses his. So the cuff they wear on their tails, Raph wears on his forepaw.

Unlike the turtles, the cats don't usually wear their battle gear 24/7 they only wear it when going outside. (They often sneak out without it though.)

More of this shitty little au!